


sunscreen

by madaslions



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Massages, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Slice of Life, the killjoys are not necessarily mcr but you do you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madaslions/pseuds/madaslions
Summary: Ghoul pulls up his sleeves.“What d’you need?” He asks. He doesn’t sound harsh, although his voice is a little broken by the lack of water.Poison unzips their jeans.“Ineedto enjoy the sun, but I can’t go out without applying sunscreen.” Poison lets their head hang a little to the right, eyes fixed on Ghoul. “Can I count on you for this special task, Ghoul?”
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	sunscreen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [folieahdude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/folieahdude/gifts).



> this fic was written on a sleepless night, in an attempt to relax me. who gave me the prompt, sunscreen, was hana (@folieahdude) and they also beta'd and translated this piece from portuguese to english so i could post it here.

Someone once said that it’s impossible to catch skin cancer through constant sun exposure and the word spread around as fast sun storms, in the desert. Every runner who heard about the report would keep adding to it—and every single version of the story they came up with was as believable as the last one. After all, what can be considered factual when general information is already tracked down or manipulated?

If technology was once an ally, today it’s an enemy and it needs to be used with caution and restriction. There’s ex-doctors who escaped Battery City saying skin cancer is real, but there’s also healers born and raised in the desert saying there’s no such thing. Sun burns, but it doesn’t kill you. Worst case scenario, it’ll make you ill for a few days, but you’ll only need a good shot of alcohol to feel better.

“You really think we can die from this disease, Poison?” The Girl asks, curious and fearful, looking up and to the sun as if it’s a great enemy who needs to be taken down.

Poison laughs, throwing their head back. The arid climate makes their throat dry, so Poison needs a few moments to be able to speak properly.

“‘Course not. We have a great preventive called: sunscreen. It’s that sea-scented lotion that we put on you every morning.” Poison adjusts their sunglasses and leans against a utility pole, staring at where The Girl’s standing. “Not that you’d know what sea smells like, but it’s basically that. Dr. D always says that ‘the sun is a big ball of radiation that will burst you into flames if you stay in one place too long’. We hardly stay at the same place, let alone without protection, so you have nothing to worry about.” Poison fills in, smile upon their face.

From a distance, Poison sees the Trans AM approaching and waves. The vehicle gets closer and closer until it stops in front of Poison and The Girl. Suddenly Kobra Kid, Jet Star and Fun Ghoul jump out of it, each one with their respective face masks and their weapons locked in the holster.

Jet Star takes off his helmet, holding it with one hand. He shakes his hair and approaches The Girl, half smile on his face. Kobra Kid opens the viewfinder, while Fun Ghoul pulls up his mask.

“Coast is clear. Think we’ll be able to take you to our training session.” Jet Star says, looking directly at The Girl. He lifts his head, then, changing his gaze to Party Poison. “You’ll be alright?” His eyes follow Poison and then Ghoul, his expression changing to concern.

Poison is the one who waves their hand and chuckles.

“How old you think I am, 60? ‘Course we’re gonna be fine. Ghoul is great with big guns and I’m great at escape routes. Just keep your radio close so I can let you know if anything happens.”

Kobra rolls his eyes for a moment. The Girl is already getting into the car before they’ve even finished the conversation.

Jet Star shrugs and gets into the car too, on the passenger's side. Kobra follows them and starts the car and radio station, pulling up the gear. In a few minutes, they’re long gone and the sand completely covers the vehicle and there’s no noise around other than those made by static and some flies.

Poison prefers it this way.

They smirk at Ghoul, the predatory type of smirk that carries too many ideas with it. Ghoul takes off his mask and holds Poison’s gaze for a few seconds, trying—although in vain—to unravel whatever is in Poison’s thoughts.

Poison lets out a dramatic sigh and whacks the old refrigerator at the convenience store, getting a bottle of warm water for free.

“Hey, can you help me with something? It’s important and I can’t do it without you.” Poison asks as the two of them walk towards the back of the building. They throw the water bottle at Ghoul, who catches it in the air without much effort.

Ghoul raises his eyebrows in a silent question. He’s never been the type of person who likes to talk that much, he just  _ acts. _

As soon as they enter the small room they call their bedroom, the first thing that gets taken off is their jackets. It used to be a warehouse, back here, but not anymore. This abandoned store is an exclusive to nomads like the killjoys.

Ghoul watches Poison closely, leaving his holster at one of the tables, right beside his mask. He also takes off his gloves, eyes still locked onto Poison and their languid movements.

Ghoul runs his tongue over his dry lips.

Poison knows they have all the attention they need, so they make the moment linger a bit more with a half smile upon their face. Poison takes off their boots, followed by their socks and lifts both hands up to perform a quick stretch.

Ghoul pulls up his sleeves.

“What d’you need?” He asks. He doesn’t sound harsh, although his voice is a little broken by the lack of water.

Poison unzips their jeans.

“I  _ need _ to enjoy the sun, but I can’t go out without applying sunscreen.” Poison lets their head hang a little to the right, eyes fixed on Ghoul. “Can I count on you for this special task, Ghoul?”

A low, hoarse laugh is heard and Poison’s smile widens when they see Ghoul like that. Poison likes what they see, too, taking the opportunity to analyze every part of Ghoul’s body. Perhaps Poison would never really get used to the booming beauty of Fun Ghoul. Sometimes it’s just too much.

“Don’t want me to get skin cancer, do you?” Poison asks rhetorically, now hooking their fingers on their belt loops, starting to push that piece of clothing down and rolling their hips slowly, on purpose, to get rid of the pants they’re wearing.

Soon after, their shirt is taken off too, and Poison throws it on the floor along with the rest of their clothing. Ghoul has not yet taken his eyes off Poison’s silhouette, which makes Poison smile more. Poison is only wearing what they like to call shorts, but those actually look like female boxers, just a bit wider.

Poison picks up the sunscreen lotion from their nightstand and shakes it.

“Wash your hands first, okay?”

Ghoul is laughing again, but turns to walk into the adapted kitchen. He opens the bottle he’s holding and finally drinks, the warm liquid in his mouth making it feel hotter than usual—or maybe it’s simply the outcome of Poison wearing less clothes than they should. Ghoul turns on the tap and hears Poison humming behind him. He washes his hands, face and neck, feeling refreshed. Then he drinks the rest of the water, his throat no longer scratching, and throws the bottle in the trash.

When he turns to walk back into the room, walking slowly, he finds himself thinking that, as much as he loves the rest of the team, he  _ loves _ these private moments with Poison. These are made for just  _ being _ , regardless of every restriction or words that are meant to be said or not.

From where Ghoul is, he can see Poison supporting their leg on the bed, sunscreen being absorbed by their skin as their hand keeps spreading the lotion around.

Poison knows their own self well enough to have confidence in their moves— and in the bait they’re throwing at Ghoul. The arrangement made with Kobra and Jet was to only return with The Girl after nightfall, and Poison and Ghoul still have long hours before that happens. That’s why Poison takes their time, knowing that Ghoul is close to them. 

Poison finishes spreading the lotion onto their leg, just so they can lift their face and look at Ghoul, who’s waiting for them. Poison’s smile has traces of malice, now.

“I’m almost done with my legs.” Poison sends out a warning, shaking the sunscreen container at Ghoul.

When the task is done, Poison lies on the double bed, facedown, and leans on their elbows. Poison raises one hand and, with their index finger, calls for Ghoul. With the other hand, Poison shakes the sunscreen container again. Ghoul analyzes the scene from where he is, biting his lower lip. It’s a sight that takes his breath away.

Poison lowers their sunglasses, eyes now studying Ghoul’s figure.

“Do I need to ask again or...?”

Ghoul seems to wake up from his brief daydream then, walking towards Poison, who takes off their sunglasses and leaves them on the nightstand. As Ghoul gets closer, he picks up Poison’s sunscreen, who’s still resting their elbows on the mattress, but now has their head laying on their forearms. 

Ghoul sits on a free space of the bed and opens the lotion container, shaking it once, twice and then pressing it over Poison’s skin. The lotion comes out in a larger amount than expected and it’s going to take longer for Poison’s skin to absorb everything.

This is already being much more beneficial than what Ghoul originally hoped for.

Ghoul starts spreading the lotion then, over Poison’s shoulders and the back of their neck. His hand movements are steady and his fingers find some muscle knots along the way, taking his time to rub them out.

There’s music in the room—Mad Gear and The Missile Kid—but Ghoul’s not paying attention. He breathes a little slower as he feels Poison’s skin, even though it’s covered with the creamy product. Poison, on the other hand, does  _ not _ hesitate to let out moans of approval as he feels Ghoul's hands working.

“You got lots of muscle knots…” mutters Ghoul. “Anything you want to tell me about?” He asks, lips a little closer to one of Poison’s ears.

There’s a lapse of time between the answer and the question, occupied by a low hum and a few long sighs. Poison smiles.

“Hmm, yes. Your hands are delicious. Makes sense that you’d know how to handle weapons so well.” And all Ghoul does is roll his eyes, proceeding with moving his hands to Poison’s waist.

Shortly after, Ghoul’s done. He closes the sunscreen container and hands it to Poison, who sits on the bed, stretching and yawning. Then Poison approaches Ghoul, rubbing their nose over his cheek in a slow, affectionate way.

“Where would I be without you?” And Ghoul wants to answer, but Poison is holding his face and everything that’s on his mind fades away.

It takes a few seconds for Poison to smile and give him a quick peck. Ghoul sighs and holds Poison’s hand, studying Poison’s eyes for a bit.

He likes the green. In fact, he loves that he can see all of Poison’s emotions reflected there, while not understanding any of them. It’s one of his favorite things: having everything and nothing at all at the same time.

Ghoul waits, feeling the air getting thicker—maybe even more than the heat. There’s only silence now and the exchange of glances and Poison’s hand holding Ghoul’s face and Ghoul’s hand holding Poison's and–

Ghoul smiles. The type of smile that Poison knows would be able to light up the entire Battery City without effort.

“Can I kiss you?”

And even though the answer is the most obvious one in the world, Poison loves the moments of tension that follow after the question. Poison loves the way Ghoul analyzes their mouth and their eyes and loves how Ghoul waits patiently. Although Poison already said this question is no longer necessary between the two of them, Ghoul still takes Poison by surprise at times.

Poison mutters  _ yes,  _ so Ghoul leans in.

The kiss is slow, loving. Ghoul strokes Poison’s face and they get lost in time. What’s supposed to be just one kiss becomes another, then another and when they see it, they’re losing track of the hour. Ghoul is on top of Poison now, arching an eyebrow while slowly breaking a kiss.

“Was all that just an excuse so you could kiss me?” he asks.

Poison frowns, pulling a strand of Ghoul’s hair from his face.

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Ghoul.” Then the smile on Poison’s face is amusing. Ghoul laughs, bringing his lips closer to Poison’s.

“You used to be a better liar…” But he doesn’t bother to wait for Poison’s new excuse, getting busy with Poison’s lips and nothing else.

In the end, staying together is the only thing that actually matters.


End file.
